


Friskriel Oneshots

by Desceeee



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Background Alphyne - Freeform, Oneshot collection, Some angst, Tags will be added as they become relevant, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-02-18 12:51:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13100490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desceeee/pseuds/Desceeee
Summary: A collection of Friskriel oneshots.





	1. Warmth | A Generic Friskriel Cuddlefic

The shadow on the ceiling, cast from the tree branches which loomed by the window, made for some surprisingly intricate patterns. Especially as the branches swayed and bobbed in the wind. But it didn’t make the act of laying there and staring at the ceiling any less dull. If he knew being saved would involve so much of that, perhaps he would have told Frisk that they shouldn’t bother.

Sometimes, Asriel wished he had nightmares. Even if they were the kind where he might find himself flinging upright upon waking up, like he always saw people do on TV or in movies. Or the kind he had when he was little, from which he would wake up glued to the pillow and sweating. Nightmares, as terrible as they were, at least mean he got _some_ sleep.

Then again, in his experience, even sleep didn’t offer relief. He wouldn’t call any of his dreams nightmares, per say. They weren’t scary or unpleasant while he was having them. Only once he woke up and remembered what he dreamt did the horror reach him.

Ultimately, his problem was that he _deserved_ to have nightmares. But why would he have nightmares about what happened back _then_? He wasn’t the victim. Nobody forced him to do anything. He did it all out of his own free will. And at the time, he enjoyed every bit of it. It wasn’t something he could pin on his missing soul or his determination. The darkness always existed inside him, and it always will.

He shifted to his side to look at Frisk. They were curled up in their blanket on the other side of the room, fast asleep. He got out of bed and made his way towards them, but stopped by their bedside. He stared at their sleeping form.

Frisk laid on their side, one cheek buried in the pillow. The edge of their blanket bunched up between their chin and their shoulder. The ball they made under their blanket was small and tight enough that they must have been sleeping with their knees to their chest.

His eyes fell on their face. Their skin was unblemished, other than the dark circles under their eyes. Their soft locks fell over their cheeks like a waterfall. Asriel would have moved them if it weren’t for the fact it might wake Frisk up. But the most striking aspect about them was how calm their face looked, not a single muscle tight.

He didn’t think he ever saw them this relaxed when awake, not when they knew he was around. Frisk has made great efforts to assure him they didn’t hate him. Every time he expressed guilt or insecurity, they would swear up and down that they believed in him. That he was a good person who will redeem himself for his past. That what he did to them wasn’t that bad. That they forgave him entirely and had no leftover bad feelings. But Frisk couldn’t hide the way they froze, momentarily, whenever he came into their sight. The way they would tense up around him.

Asriel didn’t blame them. Even now, a thought nagged at him at the back of his mind that he was being creepy. He was watching them sleep. This wasn’t the first time he watched someone sleep. As a flower, he did a lot of that, and it rarely ended well for the ones he watched.

But he supposed that what he was doing now was _better_ than what he got out of bed to do. If he woke them up and asked them for comfort or reassurance, he would be hurting them again for his own selfish needs. Frisk collapsed into bed that evening. They needed their sleep.

With heavy feet, he turned around and dragged himself back to his bed. Frisk let out a shudder.

Asriel turned back toward them again. Step by step, he drew closer to their bedside. They were still asleep, but now, he noticed, they were shivering. Of course they would be shivering: the blanket they slept with was designed for boss monsters, not humans. In a temperate weather, they would have been okay. But it was getting colder now.

He rushed towards his bed and pulled the blanket away, and then went back to Frisk’s bed and spread it out across them. He stretched over them, trying to ensure they are covered.

“...Asriel..?”

He froze. Lifting their head up, Frisk looked at him with glazed, half-open eyes.

“...Are you okay?” they asked.

“Yeah! Um... I didn’t mean to wake you.” His face was burning.  “It’s just that you looked like you were getting cold. And... umm...“

“Thank you. Asriel...” A small smile spread across their lips as they dropped their head back on their pillow. Their eyes shifted to his bed. “Wait, did you give me your blanket?”

“Well, yeah. Don’t worry! I’m not cold. You, uh... need it more.”

“No.” They sat up and pulled the blanket to the side. “I think there must be more blankets in the drawer—“

“No! You, uh... don’t need to—“

“I can’t just take your blanket.”

“There aren’t any blankets in the house, Frisk. They’re all still packed up. Look, you should just go back to sleep—“

“Asriel...” Frisk fidgeted with their blanket. “Do you, uh...”

Frisk looked down at their lap. Their hair fell on their face. Not knowing what else to do, Asriel stared.

Staring at Frisk wasn’t exactly something Asriel hated doing. In fact, whenever they were around, it came to him like breathing. It took him effort _not_ to do that, like consciously staring at something else. But now, there wasn’t anything he could do _but_ that, and that fact made his stomach churn. He woke them up, and now he was probably making them feel uncomfortable and—

“Do you... want to share?” asked Frisk.

His mouth fell open.

“I think my bed should be big enough. So...”

“Yeah! I-I mean!“ He tried to hold back his elation. “It would be nice. I guess...”

Frisk smiled and shuffled over to give him space. He sat on the bed and pulled the blankets over the two of them. Frisk laid their head back down on the pillow.

“Goodnight, Asriel.”

“Night.”

Frisk closed their eyes and rolled onto the side facing him. Asriel kept sitting there for a few minutes, watching them, before tiredness overtook him and he, too, lay down. He wrapped both arms around them and pulled them to his chest.

He knew this wouldn’t last. Tomorrow, Frisk will have a warmer, better blanket. Frisk themself might forget to ask for one, but he wouldn’t. It wouldn’t be right to deprive them of something like this just so he could have an excuse to get closer to them.

But that didn’t matter now. Not when they were sleeping so soundly against him. Not when he could feel them grow warmer and warmer, to match his own warmth. Not when their soft breathing was the only sound in the room.

And so, for the first night since he came to the surface, Asriel was contented. He lulled himself to sleep, cradling his redemption to his chest.


	2. A Shonen Training Arc

Undyne wasn’t sure what to make of Asriel Dreemurr.

As a child, growing up in monster society, she heard a lot about the prince. His talent in magic. His kind heart. His friendship with a human, of all things. The stolen angel of the monster kingdom. He must be avenged.

Funnily enough, of all her mentors throughout the years, Asgore talked the least about Asriel. After a short while with him, she learned not to ask. The look in her old man’s eyes was all she needed to know. If his grief was too great to continue his vengeance, then she will continue it for him. Or at least, so she thought at the time.

It wasn’t until after she had completely given up on her vengeance, _and_ had that vengeance proven irrelevant by the saviour human, Frisk, when she got to meet Asriel in person. She and the others stood by the place where the barrier once was, waiting for Frisk. Ready for a new future. Ready to leave the past behind. And then Frisk walked in, leading him by the hand.

Even then, it was a poor excuse for a meeting: Asriel and Undyne were in the same room.

 

* * *

 

For the longest time, Undyne wasn’t sure what rubbed her wrong about Asriel. At first, she tried to find fault in herself. Perhaps her discomfort stemmed from jealousy, the kind an older sibling might feel over the birth of a baby.

It wasn’t until one ordinary evening, a couple of months after the barrier broke, when she understood why.

She was watching the Mettaton show with Alphys resting her head on her chest. Mettaton interviewed Frisk about something to do with some monster populations who struggled to get used to the surface. It wasn’t the most interesting topic, but then again, Undyne never cared much for politics. If it didn't involve humans threatening monsters, it wasn’t something she needed to worry about.

Then Asriel walked into the studio, and Alphys tensed against her. Undyne needed to rub her back as Mettaton and Asriel shook hands and took their seats. And so Mettaton moved on to interview Asriel, leaving Frisk to sit in silence with an unsure smile on their face.

There was nothing wrong with the interview itself. In fact, as far as Undyne could tell, it went amazingly well. Asriel oozed charisma, his posture and gestures confident. His words, never impolite, always witty and smart, but still, somehow, cute and childlike (as opposed to Frisk’s soft and factual speech). He handled it better than most adults would.

But the problem was, she never saw him this animate, or this personable, in real life. That was the thing about him. He was what she thought Frisk was like when she first heard of them.

In the public eye, both in the greater monster community and to humanity, Asriel embodied the concept of the charming prince, except with sugar poured in. So polite, and well behaved, and nice and sweet and _adorable_. Whenever he showed up on the mass media, either in Mettaton-hosted or human-hosted interview, Asriel knew exactly what to say, how to smile, and when to flash his puppy-dog eyes at the camera and make the audience coo. It wasn’t due to his parents’ instruction. They didn’t even want him on TV.

At times, it was almost like Asriel was the ambassador, rather than Frisk. It seemed like many would have preferred him. No matter how hard Frisk worked behind the scenes, Asriel outshined them, brighter than a pulsar. Mettaton ought to be jealous too.

In person, however, Asriel could not be any more different.

Asriel had an odd look in his eyes, grim and cold and hard. He was generous with his glares, and a single glare from him was enough to send Alphys squeaking and hiding behind Undyne. Enough to even set Papyrus aback. In conversation, Asriel was curt, only short of rude due to his mother’s watch.

But what made Undyne’s stomach churn about him was the way he clung to Frisk, glowering over them like a dragon guarding his hoard. Not to mention the way he _grinned_ when Frisk rejected Toriel's offer to formally adopt them, rather than just serving as their guardian. And sure, Frisk didn’t seem to mind, but that was because Frisk was _Frisk_. They may have had a big heart, but if you put your big heart ahead of your eyes, you are bound to have blindspots.

And so, despite being close friends, Asriel and Frisk were complete opposites in Undyne’s eyes. Frisk’s kindness seemed fake at first, but was real. Whereas Asriel, hyped as the ideal incarnate, was nothing but a hollow shell.

That said, as the heir to the throne, Asriel was undeniably important to the future of the monster kingdom. The people loved him. And on a personal level, Asgore and Frisk did too. So Undyne kept her mouth shut.

As long as he stays away from her and from Alphys and Papyrus, and as long as he doesn’t hurt Frisk, there should be no problem.

 

* * *

 

“You know, Undyne,” said Asgore, resting his cup of tea on the plate on his lap, “Asriel wants to start magical combat training.”

“Oh, really,” said Undyne. “That’s nice. He's reaching that age... Best of luck with that.” She finished pouring her own cup and set the teapot on the table as she tried to think of a way to change the subject.

“Actually, uh, I may have put it in a somewhat... misleading manner. Asriel and I did, in fact, start magical combat training yesterday.”

“Oh, um, okay. So, did you catch up with that anime I’ve shown you? You know, the one with the quirks and the kid who wants to be a hero?”

“Yes.” Asgore looked down. The tea on his lap made circular ripples. “It was nice... I uh, have a favour to ask of you.”

Oh come on! She didn’t even walk into that one. He walked her in and now she couldn’t walk out.

Still though, this favour might not be what she was thinking. Maybe it was something else. Something simpler. Maybe he wanted child-friendly anime recommendations. Anime is a great motivator.

She should give him deniability. “Yes, what is it?”

“I... uh, would like you to take over Asriel’s training.”

So much for that. "Why?! Why would I do a better job than you? You’re the one who trained me!"

“I am aware that this is an odd request. But it’s just...” He caught a look in his eyes, distant and haunted. “When you train someone seriously, you cannot afford to go soft on them. When I started training you, you were young, younger than Asriel is now. Our training didn’t need to get serious until you were at least a teenager, especially because... well... there wasn’t any danger looming over us.”

And even then, Asgore didn’t go hard on her. He taught her the motions, but when she wanted to test them for real, she had to find other sparring partners. Only in adulthood did she understand why: he didn’t want to hurt kids any more than he had to.

“But that brings us to now,” said Asgore. Although his voice was controlled, his hands trembled so hard that the plate and the teacup were clicking against one another and the tea was threatening to spill. “The surface world is dangerous. Asriel has to learn to protect himself. But I can’t bring myself to... I can’t bring myself to go hard on him, Undyne.”

“So,” a half-smirk climbed up Undyne’s face, “you want me to beat up your son for you...” her smirk vanished when she met his eyes.

If it was any other person, outside of Alphys, maybe, she would have said no. But this was her old man. Her old man who taught her everything she knew and expected her to pass on the torch. Her old man who was long tired of hurting others, especially kids. Her old man who now faced either fighting his own son or losing him, again.

And so, Undyne moved from not having anything to do with Asriel, to not wanting to have anything to do with Asriel, to having to have to do with Asriel.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Asriel showed up at her doorstep. Wearing his usual sweater and jeans (which Undyne doubted would be good for training,) and the same grim, impassive look on his face, (which was definitely not good for training).

It was Alphys who had the misfortune to open the door to him, but once she saw it was him, she knew the right procedure: fall back, retreat, and call for reinforcements. Well, not reinforcements as much as _replacements_ , because once Undyne came down, Alphys was spared of the prince’s company.

As much as Undyne envied her for this, it was for the best. Having to deal with him wouldn’t help her recover. Quite the opposite. Undyne, unlike Alphys, was strong. She will defend the frontier of their home. No human, or god, or petulant prince, will ever lay harm to it.

“Undyne,” said Asriel, “father said you wanted to train me.”

“Yes,” said Undyne. For a certain value of ‘wanted’, at least. She surveyed him for a moment, noting the lack of strap on his shoulder. “You haven’t brought anything?”

“He said you had your own training kit, if necessary.”

“Well, yeah, but none of it is in your size. And you didn’t even bring a water bottle.”

“Hm.” Asriel maintained eye contact the whole time. His hand curled in a tight fist on a crumpled piece of paper. Probably schoolwork. Did he come here from school? Wow, he wasn’t prepared for this at all.

“You know what, I’ll let it slide for now. The Arena is at the back side of the house. That’s also where we’ll meet from now on. Follow me.” She grabbed her own water bottle and headed out the door. He followed behind her, his eyes burrowing into her back.

A few moments later, they reached the Arena: an abandoned tennis court which Undyne had prepared in advance by removing the net. It was not the coolest place: it didn’t have any natural obstacles to trudge through or climb over or push or pull. As such, it didn’t present any opportunities for _unique_ forms of training. But it was large, and empty of anything fragile or vulnerable, which made it good enough for now.

Maybe one day, Undyne will decorate it with training-enhancing obstacles, but the prince wasn’t worth it.

“Okay, listen up you twerp!” said Undyne, “before any good training session, you must warm up!”

“Ugh, do I have to?”

“Not up to debate, punk! You put in the work or I send you back home.”

“Fine....” Asriel folded his arms and made a show of rolling not just his eyes, but his entire head with them.

“This is your first session, so I’ll go easy on you, but let me tell you what you'll be working towards: one hundred push-ups! One hundred sit-ups! One hundred squats! And a ten kilometre run!”

“...Isn’t that an anime thing?”

He recognised it? Heh, maybe he had some redeeming qualities after all.

“Yeah!” said Undyne “you know that anime?”

“...I’m just wondering whether father made some sort of mistake. You have decades worth of training, and you base your training regiment on _anime_?”

Ugh, she was already getting sick of this brat.

 

* * *

 

By the time he was done with the warmups, he was huffing and wheezing. He bent over with his hands on his knees. Undyne could smell his sweat from several meters away. A sheltered prince to his core.

“Had enough yet?” asked Undyne.

Asriel wiped off his lip with the back of his hand. “Not...” he coughed, “...even close.” He raised his eyes to meet hers. “Is that all you’ve got?!”

Well, at least he was determined. It was a start.

“Now the real training can begin!” she said, drawing her spear out. “This is your first session, so I’ll go easy on you. But you better give it all you’ve go—“

A massive fireball shot towards her. She plunged to the side and rolled away. He stood in place, smirking, his hand aflame.

“...Not bad,” she said.

“Not bad?!” said Asriel, “I caught you off guard. Golly, you’re just terrible at this, aren’t—”

She launched a spear towards him. It whipped right by his head and blew air through his fur and ears.

“Less gloating, more fighting! You don’t get to comment on my skills until I SAY you can. Got it?!”

 

* * *

 

It didn’t take many sessions before Undyne had to come to terms with an uncomfortable truth: Asriel’s magical skill was downright unnatural.

It didn’t make any sense; while it was known that he had talent (he was a Dreemurr, after all), he wasn’t considered exceptional for his bloodline. Nothing on par with what he displayed in their training sessions.

If Undyne didn’t know any better, she’d have thought that Asriel had extensive prior training. But that wasn’t possible. He only had kid-level training when he died. When did he find the time?

Just now, he had launched a massive flame beam at her, which was as long and as lasting as a laser beam. Before that, he threw fireballs at her in arching patterns, and at one point, surrounded her with them. The last one shouldn’t even be possible.

“Oh geez, it’s almost like _I’m_ training _you_!” shouted Asriel. “Is this the worst you’ve got?!”

...And that was another problem: he knew how powerful he was, and he was _smug_.

She didn’t mind the idea of training the next generation. If it was a good kid she was training, a heroic kid, like Frisk, or at least a well-intentioned and kind one, like Monster Kid, she could see herself taking pride in what she did. But Asriel was not a hero. As best, he’d be a hero’s arrogant, privileged rival.

It was getting harder and harder for her to hold back. Kid or not, he was attacking her on two fronts: the obvious, physical front, which made it evident that he was as powerful as any adult, and the verbal front, which _begged_ her to put him in his place.

It wouldn’t hurt to loosen up a little, now, would it? If anything, she’d do the brat a favour, showing him how much he had to learn.

“You want to see the worst I’ve got?” asked Undyne. “Be careful what you wish for!”

He threw another fireball at her. She launched high up into the air and summoned a rain of spears around her, pointing at him. His eyes widened as with a wave of her hand, she sent them all flying down towards him. He glanced back and forth between the spears and the ground. Only in the last moment did he remember to jump and roll away. He bounced and spun and tiptoed between spears, but some still grazed him.

Not so strong now!

As soon as she landed, she leaped back up into the air, this time landing behind him. He was panting, clutching his torso with his hand and nodding back and forth, trying not to lose his balance. She might have gone too far.

“Had enough yet?” she asked.

He whipped around and slashed at her with a flaming palm. She jumped back. Still panting, he glared her down. She summoned a spear.

“Ha, I figured it’s time for some close-quarters combat,” she said. “Prepare yourself!”

He charged up another fireball. She dashed past his shoulder and whacked him on his back with the flat of her blade, knocking him out of breath. He let out a gasp and a cry.

Did she go too far? No— he shuffled his feet around, eyes and palms aflame, focused on her. She still needed to drive her point.

She shot towards him and slid down, pushing the hilt of her spear ahead of her. The sparks only begun forming in his palm as the hilt connected under his jaw, uppercutting him into the air.

Undyne was panting, but victorious, as she looked down on Asriel who laid sprawled on his back.

“Well, I think I’ve made my point,” she said, “I’m gonna get some water. You should do the same. Training’s over for today.”

She smirked one final time at his heaving form and went to fetch a bottle of water from her backpack on the other edge of the court. But as she poured the sweet liquid in her mouth, she kept sneaking glances towards him. He wasn’t getting up.

The water was getting less and less sweet every second. A heavy feeling rose in her stomach. Did she go too far this time?

She shut the bottle and shoved it back in the bag before marching back towards him. When she reached him, he was laying on his side, away from her. Clutching a crumpled piece on paper, he glared at his hand.

She leaned over him, “hey, you alright?”

“Yes.” He shoved the piece of paper down his pocket before pushing himself to sit up. “You know, you weren’t so weak for a change. Maybe if we keep it up, you’ll eventually catch up to me!”

That prideful little—  
“I was holding back, you brat!” said Undyne. “You don’t have the right to talk about weakness when you’ve been knocked down like that!”

“Holding back? Ha! What an excuse...” He let his head drop backwards. “You got mad, didn’tcha? And yet you still couldn’t fight me for real.”

“Look, you may be a pain in the... uh... a pain in the butt, but you’re still just a kid. I’m not gonna go all out on you.”

“That didn’t stop you from going all out on Frisk though, did it...”

She grabbed his forearm and pulled him up. “You keep talking crap like that and you’ll have to do a _thousand_ push-ups next time. Am I clear?!”

 

* * *

 

The session after that, Asriel was even more ferocious. He finished his warm-ups and set the entire field ablaze. A hurricane of fire, around him a sphere of destruction, smoke and ashes and scorched faux-grass.

But Undyne was well prepared. Both in the long and short terms. At the beginning of the session, she strapped water bottles to every limb, and several to her back. So neither attrition or aggression could threaten her. In the long term, Undyne was glad that she chose an empty arena. Having to worry about property damage in a situation like this would be a pain in the ass. Not to mention the possibility of hurting innocents.

Wasn't this kid supposed to be a pacifist? Admittedly, she doubted he _aimed_ to hurt or kill her. And it was probably a good thing he'd grown past the traits that has gotten him killed the first time around. But nonetheless, he was being reckless now, uncaring as to the damage he was causing. What would _Frisk_ think if they knew that part of him? Knowing him, it wouldn't surprise her if he lied to them too.

The fire in his palms growled with every movement of his hands and roared every time he launched another fireball. She weaved and leaped between the flames, pulling water bottles off her back and pouring them on herself. She took every opportunity to get close to him and then away.

Let him exhaust himself first. Today, he will learn an important lesson about conserving his strength. Once he runs out of stamina, she will dispatch him with a single swing of the flat of her spear and make him pick up all her water bottles.

That is, that’s what she planned to do, until a glance to the side, out of The Arena, revealed a bush was reduced to ashes. That was not okay.

“Oi!” cried Undyne, “you could have hurt someone with that! Keep control of your attacks!”

Asriel smirked. Already, he had another fireball in his hands. She readied a massive spear above her. His fireball grew larger and larger in his hand, directed at her. It obscured him in light.

A silhouette ran in.

“Hey!” cried Undyne. Her spear disappeared.

The fireball only got larger. She had to act.

She dashed forwards and swept the figure in her arms and over her shoulder before leaping away. The fireball vaporised through, leaving behind it a flaming trail, as she landed.

The figure was still wheezing as the fire and smoke cleared. She smacked their back and glared at Asriel’s sharpening form.

“Uh...” Asriel stood frozen in place. His smirk remained etched into his face even as his eyes widened with horror. “Frisk?!”

Undyne pulled them back and set them standing on the ground in front of her. Still leaning on Undyne, Frisk wiped soot off the side of their mouth.

“See!” cried Undyne. “You nearly killed them, you little—“

“Undyne, it’s fine,” said Frisk with a hoarse voice, “I really shouldn’t have ran in like this...”

"Frisk, oh my gosh, Frisk." Asriel sprinted towards them. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I-" They coughed, spewing out black spit.

Undyne shot another glare at Asriel and smacked Frisk's back again.

"...thank you, Undyne." Frisk had tears in their eyes. "...and for saving me..."

"Frisk, what are you doing here?" asked Asriel.

"Not now," said Undyne. Holding Frisk by their elbows, she lowered them down to the ground. She reached behind her for a water bottle and uttered a silent curse when she couldn't find it. "Hey, make yourself useful and get some water, will you."

"Yes." Asriel rubbed his red-rimmed eyes. "Yeah, of course." He sprinted away, towards her bags in the corner.

"You..." Frisk coughed again. "...you don't need to be so harsh on him..."

"He could have killed you." If anything, she should be harsher.

Asriel was back before Frisk could respond, holding two of the biggest full canteens Undyne had brought with her that day. If only he used his powers for good. He handed Frisk a canteen and sat down, setting the other canteen beside them.

The three of them spent the next few moments sitting around, waiting for Frisk to recover. Frisk alternated between coughing and wheezing, and Undyne rested her hand on the small of their back, occasionally hitting, gently, to try to knock the smoke out their lungs. Asriel, meanwhile, sat in silence, clutching his legs, his eyes idly resting on the ground, as though afraid that if he were to raise his eyes to Frisk again they'll choke. He was a child after all.

Undyne waited until Frisk's coughing has subsided before speaking again."Frisk, you alright? Do you think you need medical attention?"

"I'm fine," said Frisk, their voice still hoarse, "thank you."

"What were you doing here?" asked Asriel.

"I wanted to see you." Frisk wiped their mouth again. Their eyes were teary. "I wanted to see what training is like for you."

"It's not _this_ intense, usually." Undyne shot another glare at Asriel. "I _told_ you to control yourself."

Asriel shrunk in his place.

"How intense is it usually, then?" asked Frisk.

"It's okay," said Asriel. "It's not more intense than I can stand. Undyne's a good teacher." He smiled at them with gentle eyes.

Why did he get so nice all of a sudden? Oh, wait, it's to do with Frisk. And Frisk hadn't brought out his positive side out as much as they brought out his _mask_.

"...Right! It's time I take you home, Frisk," said Undyne, standing up. "Training's over for today, but-!" She snapped towards Asriel "-don't think that your job here is done. You're going to cool down by tidying up the field and collecting all my water bottles. And by god, If I find you did a halfasse- a lazy job, next lesson will be made up _entirely_ of warmup exercises! Capiche?"

"No, Undyne..." said Frisk, "he shouldn't-"

"Yes, he should. Isn't that right, Asriel?"

Asriel averted his eyes and nodded before getting up and running towards the farthest empty bottle on the field. After helping Frisk stand, she kept holding on to them as she walked them out of the arena.

"...It's fine..." said Frisk, "I'm not gonna fall."

"You sure?" asked Undyne.

"I survived worse. You, uh, you guys. You don't need to worry about me so much."

"You never fought _him_. But alright." She stopped and let them go.

"Thanks." They wobbled for a moment before balancing themself. "Asriel's attack wasn't so bad after all."

"Stop apologising for him, already." Undyne crossed her arms. "What do you see in him, anyways?"

"I mean, I, uh, I just really like Asriel as a person." Despite Frisk's casual tone, their cheeks flushed. "He's kind, and nice, and brave... and he's really cool too. Just the other day, he showed me all sorts of cool tricks and attacks that he learned with you."

...Was Asriel using his powers to impress his crush? Training like this was a sacred royal tradition, from what she heard. Hell, his father organised these sessions to _protect_ him. To think, that he would be this disrespectful...

"Cool tricks, fine," said Undyne. "I'll give him that. But all the other stuff? Really? Are we talking about the same person here?!"

"What do you mean?"

"Haven't you noticed how the way he's acting? Can you remember a single time when he was kind, or nice, in person, towards _anyone_?"

"... He's kind of awkward, is all."

"He sure doesn't seem awkward in the media."

"It's a different set of skills, being confident on stage or in person. On stage, everyone needs to put on an act of some sort. Well..." Frisk tugged on the hem of their sleeve. "...I'm not really good at that aspect, not when there are this many eyes on me. I don't know how I survived Mettaton back in the Underground. But now, Asriel can fill in whenever it gets too much for me."

"...In any case, why would he be so ' _awkward_ ' if he's also so charismatic?" asked Undyne.

"Asriel's been through a lot," said Frisk, "you know, dying and coming back and uh, stuff. But he has a good heart, really! And he's never anything but kind towards me."

"...Yeah, that's the part that worries me." Undyne placed a hand on Frisk's shoulder. "...Did you ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe, he's putting on an act around you?"

"No."

"Why not?!"

"I know him. I know him really, really well. Both his good and his bad aspects. If he tried to pull an act on me, I'd notice."

"None of what you're saying make sense, though." She tightened her grip on their shoulder. "He's supposedly an awkward, nice guy, but his behaviour in the training sessions shows otherwise."

"What do you mean? Wha- what does he do during your training sessions?"

"He acts like a smug, arrogant brat. That's what he does. He's supposed to learn how to protect himself and the ones he loves, but he keeps trying to show off!"

The moment the words left her mouth, Undyne regretted them. She probably wasn't giving off the best impression like that, getting mad to the point of violence at the actions of a child.

But Frisk didn't seem to judge her. From her angle, and the way they held their head, it was difficult to see their expression. But all they said was a quiet "ohh..."

"...He keeps prematurely escalating our battles, too," said Undyne. "This time, it almost cost you your life. This was his fault!"

"...I think I see the problem here, Undyne," said Frisk. "He's not putting an act around _me_. He's putting an act around _you_."

"What?! Why?"

"He's trying to get you to go harder on him so he can learn faster. Even if it means he might get hurt. No, actually, _especially_ if it means he will get hurt. He's using training to hurt himself."

"Why the hell would do that?!"

"Like I said, Asriel's, uh, been through a lot. But that's not the point here" Frisk turned to face her. "Undyne, you have to hold back."

"You can't be serious. You _saw_ how strong this kid is."

"Physically, yes. But that doesn't mean this training's good for him."

"It is." Undyne tore her eyes away from Frisk. "It's in his best interests. The reason Asgore chose _me_ for this is so I would go hard on him. This is the only way he'd learn."

"I know," said Frisk. "Maybe I just don't get it. Maybe these training sessions are just a... a monster thing that humans don't understand. But I think you should be careful with him, Undyne."

She made the mistake of making eye contact with them again.

"I know that you, uh, have good intentions when you're doing this," said Frisk. "Maybe I should just step aside and let you do your thing. But he keeps coming home bruised and exhausted, and... trying to hide it from me. And I can't help but wonder how much he managed to hide from _you_.

"I'm not making any demands or anything, I'm just asking this of you because you're my friend, and I trust you, Undyne."

Okay, that last part was a low blow. How could she even argue with that? Time to add Frisk to the list of people whose will could buck her stubborn self.

"Fine," she said, "I'll keep a closer eye on him for you. Now you better get well soon, punk!" She rubbed their head.

 

* * *

 

_"Hey, how did your first session go?"_

_"It was okay. Not as hard as I thought it'd be, to be honest."_

_"Why did you start these training sessions, anyway?"_

_"Oh, you know... it's actually, um, a royal tradition, to train like that. I just, uh, postponed it for a while. Because... yeah."_

_"So it's not anything to do with... you know..."_

_"...Do with what?"_

_"...Because you know, I told you you don't have to worry about it."_

_"Oh,_ that _? Yeah, it's nothing to do with that. I already forgot all about it."_

_"That's good. Like I said, it's nothing to worry about. Actually, it's already ended. It stopped. Blew over. Passed on its own. I haven't gotten anything new in ages."_

_"...That's nice... It's good news."_

 

* * *

 

_"Oh- oh my god! Are you okay?"_

_"...Yeah... I just need to do my stretches, is all."_

_"You don't look okay. Your... your chin- hold still, let me look."_

_"..."_

_"...Here. I don't know if boss monsters are the same as humans, but it should help sooth it, a bit."_

_"Thank you. It feels better already. The, uh, cold helps."_

_"Does this happen often, in your training sessions?"_

_"No, not really. This session was more intense than usual. And I mean, that's a good thing! Look what I can do with my magic now."_

_"Oh, wow, that's pretty amazing..."_

 

* * *

 

_"Hey, u awake?  
"Toriel said ur staying with ur dad tonight."_

_"It was closer after training  
"So yeah."_

_"Is it because of today?"_

_"No"_

_"It wasnt your fault_  
_"Okay?_  
_"You were doing ur best._  
_"I shouldnt have ran in like that._  
_"Im sorry."_

 _"NO_  
_"You shouldnt be sorry,_  
_"IM sorry."_

 _"It. Wasnt. Your. Fault. Asriel._  
_"Dont blame yourself._  
_"Hey, you there?_  
_"Please respond_  
_"please_  
_"Asriel??"_

 

* * *

 

The next day, one her way to the arena, she got a message from Frisk asking whether Asriel was there and whether he was alright. Upon spotting his silhouette, she texted them a brief yes back. Should stop them from worrying.

The arena was spotless when she arrived. Whether Frisk was right about Asriel or not, it appeared he learned a lesson.

Asriel's condition, however, was not nearly as good. His clothes were still smeared in soot, his fur matted and greasy. He smelled of sweat, dust, and ash. But most alarming was the look on his face, his cheeks sunken and his eyes bloodshot.

Today was not a schoolday. She may have been the only person he'd seen since that morning.

"You look like crud," she said, "what happened to you?"

"Stayed with my dad yesterday," said Asriel. "Didn't bring a change of clothes."

Something didn't add up; Asgore would never let his son fester in such a state. Was Asriel so exhausted yesterday that he went to bed without talking to his dad? Wasting what little time the two of them got to spend together...

Something pinched her soul. She shook it off and dismissed the thought of updating Frisk on the issue. It wouldn't do any good if they came here again.

"Right," she said, "warmups. Begin!"

And so she stood by and watched as Asriel dragged and swung and trudged as though the air around was heavy. His forehead wrinkled tight.

She should start looking on the good side of this kid. As bratty as he was, he sure was determined. Coming here day by day, no matter how aching or exhausted or dismayed. This was the attitude of a person who had a goal to reach. Though what goal it was, Undyne wasn't sure.

"...you know what," she called out to him, halfway through his run, "...short lesson today. You only have to do half the warmups you do usually."

Asriel glanced towards her as he ran past, but quickly dropped his eyes.But when it was time to switch to press-ups, he kept running.

"Hey, did you hear me?!" said Undyne.

His eyes remained pinned to the ground as he ran.

"I said, ' _short lesson_ '."

Asriel kept on. She dashed towards him and grabbed his arm.

"That's enough, stop running." Undyne tightened her grip in him, even as he felt limp in her hand. "Move on to the push-ups."

Asriel turned and looked at her, his eyes half-glazed and empty. He nodded and dropped down.

Undyne watched him in silence, only stopping to intervene when it was time for him to move on to the next exercise. But then, considering she had to interrupt him _every time_ he needed to stop, that was fairly often. How much would he push himself if she wasn't there to stop him?

"Alright," Undyne cracked her knuckles, "Short warmup today, but! You're going to make up for it when sparring. Got it?"

"Yes, captain..."

Was that sarcasm? Poking fun at the role she left back at the Underground? No. His eyes were too empty, his voice too hollow.

"Considering what happened last time, today we will focus on weapons training." She summoned a spear and threw it at him. "Now, I don't care if this isn't your type of weapon, tridents weren't my type of weapon either, but I still used them."

Clutching the spear, Asriel nodded. Wait, no arguing? No complaining? Not being a brat? Was this even Asriel anymore?

"...You can have the first move," said Undyne. "When you're read-"

"Can I have another spear?"

Finally, he was back! "Another? What's wrong with the spear I've given you?"

"I want a second one." Asriel held the spear with one hand, blade pointing down. "I wanna dual wield."

"Dual wielding doesn't work with spears," said Undyne. "They're too large and unwieldy. It's more of a sword thing. Heck, even with swords, it's only dubiously useful, and requires a LOT of training. One-handed training first."

"Oh..."

Wasn't this kid a prodigy?

"Well, are you ready?" asked Undyne.

Asriel launched at her, swinging his spear in a wide arch. She swooped beneath and poked at his torso with the tip of her spear.

Leaving himself open like that was a beginner's mistake.

 

* * *

 

Unfortunately, Asriel's skills in melee did not hold even a loose, flying flicker to his magical skills, let alone a candle. The deeper into the session she's got, the more she realised that his lack of skill was not because of his tiredness, or his unfamiliarity with spears, or even atrophy from the time he spent dead. This kid has never been in even a semi-serious melee fight before.

In combat, his movements were clumsy. Every step a stumble. He was prone to striking by swinging his spear or smashing it down, like you would with an axe or a hammer, never attempting to stab. And it left him open after _every_ strike. Making it worse, his swings were wild, to the point where Undyne wasn't even sure he was aiming at her. Every attack nearly sent him toppling over.

And it only got worse with time. As his movement got less and less controlled, his swings got even wider, his stance less balanced. He kept running at her, waving his spear, over and over, in exactly the same ways that failed him before.

Clearly, her next step should be to make a list of the techniques he had to learn, and teach them to him, each one individually. A beginner's training regiment.

After one swing that, with an effortless block by her, sent him falling back, she had enough.

"...This isn't working," she said, "look, let's wrap this for today. Next time, I'll teach you proper weapon handling."

"No!" He was heaving. "Are you really going to give up like that?!"

"What do you mean, _give up_?"

"Are you- are you really so weak that you're gonna lose to a _child_?"

Was he babbling, or was he really this deluded?

"How am _I_ losing?!" asked Undyne.

"You're all ready to give up, just like that." Asriel's face bore a cloudy-eyed smirk. "You're surrendering to me..."

None of that made any sense. Frisk's words flashed in her mind; Asriel was trying, desperately, to provoke her. She shouldn't give in.

"Training's over for today, and that's final," she said. "Go be edgy somewhere els-"

He slashed at her. She jumped back. He lunged forward and she caught his spear.

"Seriously?" she asked. "What are yo-"

He rammed his head into her chest, knocking her breath out. She pulled his spear away and pushed him back.

"Fine!" she cried. "If you want to keep fighting _this much_ , I'll oblige you! One last round! One last chance to prove your strength!"

Asriel grinned under shadowed eyes, the creepy little git. She tossed him his spear.

He lunged again. She blocked his spear and rotated, but he gripped on. With a kick, she launched him back. He landed on his feet, still holding his spear, huffing and glaring.

"Is that enough, _your highness_?"

He sprinted at her, blind. She stepped aside and around and watched him lunge and stumble.

"Wow. This is humiliating. Why are you even doing this?"

He stood in place, crouched, facing away from her, but from the way his chest expanded and contracted, she could tell he was breathing heavily. He was doing something with his hands. If she was him, she would be reeling right now.

"You're only embarrassing yourself, _prince_."

"Shut up."

"Ready to give up now?"

"Arghh!" He caught fire and whipped around.

She kneaded her forehead. "This isn't even _weapons_ training anymore."

He launched at her, screaming. She blocked. He tried to ram forward. She blocked. He swung. She blocked.

And soon, it devolved into a pattern, him attacking with everything he had, sans overwhelming magic. And her blocking it all with grace and efficiency. In any other circumstance, the sight of a burning, crying, screaming berserker would be intimidating, but not now. Now it was laughable.

There was only one danger about it all, and that was the flames. She couldn't afford to dry out. But even that was not an issue. As long as she kept him at spear length, she barely felt them.

But he was turning pink through he fur as he shambled and swung himself just as much as he did his spear. His eyes, though teary, remained locked in a glare, but his tongue hung out of his mouth as he heaved.

In one wide swing, there was the glimpse of paper in his hand wrapping the spear handle.

"Huh? Wait-" she grabbed his wrist. "What is this?!"

His spear clanged against the ground as he hung limp from her grip. But his hand stayed tight around the paper. His other hand held his mouth.

"Give me- give me that-" said Undyne.

"No! Don't you, don't-"

She dug between his palm and his fingers and wrestled the paper out of his hand, ignoring his cries and slaps, and attempts to burn both her and the paper.

"No! No..." Asriel broke into a sobbing fit as he collapsed to the ground. His fire went out.

"Ha! You can't hide this from me!" Undyne beamed at herself, ready to uncrumple to paper.

But Asriel lay on his stomach, clasping his hands to his chest. Crying and swallowing air loudly. His hands whipped to his mouth and he made a gargling sound. He was going to throw up.

Undyne stuffed the paper in her pocket and sprinted to get her bottles. When she came back, he laid, clutching his stomach, on his side. She poured water on him and he woke up and pushed against the ground.

"Heatstroke," she said. "You're suffering from heatstroke. We need to get you to someplace cool, somewhere in the shade."

"P-please... Undyne..." his voice was both slurred and hoarse. "D-don't mmm... don't read the... the thing-"

"Right, don't worry about it right now. Get better first."

"I... I mmmade a promise..."

She lifted him up, swatting off his attempts to reach for her pockets, and carried him into the shade of a nearby tree. When she lay him against the trunk, he was barely conscious. She raised a bottle to his mouth and made him drink water in small doses. And like that, she watched over him.

It didn't take him long before he'd somewhat recovered. At least enough to keep his head up and drink on his own. And as soon as he recovered enough, Undyne knew it was time to strike.

"Now! You've recovered! So you better start worrying!" said Undyne. "You are better, so now It's time to read this-" She remembered that technically, she didn't know if this paper was a letter, but she went though with the rhyme anyways, "-letter!

"No! No!" He pushed himself away from the tree-trunk but winced with pain.

She grinned her smuggest full-toothed grin as she uncrumpled the paper. The text covered the entire page.

_'Little worthless brat. You think you're a hero? Fucking think again. You're nothing but a vile, false prophet. I bet you know what you are. I bet this is all just your plan to discredit everything our nation was built for. Your kind are scum that should be wiped off the earth. Worth less than garbage, less than sewage. The last good one of you died to show us the truth. And even they were only good because they knew that you are all WORTHLESS. No matter WHO forgets, WE will remember. Yes we will. And we are coming for you. You are damn lucky you never ran into me, but it doesn't matter now because there's nothing you could do to stop me. I'm going to destroy you. Mutiliate you into the NOTHING you are. And when I'm done with you, your kind will suffer too.  
Stay the Fuck away from the royal family, you worthless, unworthy little-'_

"Okay, what the hell is this?!" demanded Undyne.

"...there's another line..." said Asriel...

"What?"

"Flip it around, it's on the other page."

When she did, she was greeted with a single line of text _'-bastard. And ESPECIALLY stay away from the prince. You've already killed him once. Isn't that enough, you murderers?!'_

Taking deep breaths, Undyne closed her eyes and tried that one trick Alphys taught her, counting to ten. She gulped and let the words out. "It's a death threat."

"Yes."

"Towards Frisk."

"...yes..."

"From who?"

"We don't know. They haven't exactly signed it, you know."

"...Of course they wouldn't." Undyne balled up the letter and threw it to the ground, trying to combat the sinking feeling in her stomach. "Cowards never do. Damn, I knew _humans_ could suck, but I didn't think they'd threaten one of their own-!"

"No. Goddamnit, have you even read this letter?!" Asriel got that familiar look in his eyes, cold and dark. "A monster wrote this! MONSTER. One of us."

"It... it could just be a human, uh, false flag..."

"...maybe." Asriel hugged his knees. "Frisk got threats from humans too. But some of them were definitely monsters. They weren't all pretending. I can tell."

"...They got MULTIPLE threats?!"

Asriel nodded.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Frisk didn't me want to."

 

* * *

* * *

 

In hindsight, he should have realised something like this was happening. For a long time, he noticed the trend. Frisk was trying to minimise their public appearances, both in frequency and in scope. And when they did show up in public, they did everything in their power to seem humble, seem small. Keep the focus on the topic at hand, and not on _them_. But in the end, he chalked it to them being shy.

But then he began noticing their behaviour outside. Always looking over their shoulder, always noting exits and hiding spaces with their eyes. But that was just good situational awareness, right? They certainly didn't seem to mind being alone, in fact, they seemed to prefer it. Always breaking off from their friends for one excuse or another. They didn't even want a bodyguard. Surely, that's not the behaviour of someone who feared for their life. He ignored his hunches and carried on.

And then it happened one day, when school let out early and one of Frisk's ambassador meetings dragged on late. He found it in the doorstep, a pile of plain white envelopes with a fancy stamps and no return addresses, only the name "Frisk" written on the back.

He knew he shouldn't fiddle with it. This was _Frisk's_ mail, not his. But none of it added up. Frisk's friends wouldn't need a written letter, they already exchanged other forms of contact with them. Official correspondence of any sort would refer to Frisk by their full legal name, and make no secret of who they were. So he took the mail to their shared bedroom and opened it. And read it, and read it, and read it again as the words swam in his head. When he finally sorted out the words, he laid the pages flat on the ground. With each letter, it sunk deeper.

These were real people, real people who knew Frisk's address. If they all stood in the room now, it'd be packed, just like how paper now cluttered the floor. And this was just the physical ones. On the internet, there must be even more.

A hand placed on his shoulder. "Asriel-"

He broke away and faced towards Frisk, who looked at him with wide eyes for a brief moment before averting them.

"It's not, uh," they began, "... as bad at it looks."

He shook his head, over and over again. "When did it start?"

"...When I moved in with Toriel, on the surface."

Before they even made their first public appearance as ambassador.

"Oh." he glanced down to the papers again, and then back to Frisk. "Oh..."

"It's not so bad, though. Most of them, uh, probably don't really mean it."

"But if just _one_ of them does, then-"

"It's fine, really! I can deal with this."

"We have to tell someone." He stepped forward and grabbed them.

"No." Now it was Frisk's turn to shake their head, their eyes downcast.

"Why not?!"

"They're all just going to overreact, and- look, there's no need to escalate this. It's _my_ problem."

Okay. Stop shivering, Asriel. Think about it logically. Give them a logical argument. "If anyone else was in this situation, you'd want to know, right?"

"Yes." Frisk pulled away. " but this is different."

"How?!"

"Everyone are either busy, or just... living their lives. I don't want to drag them into this."

Asriel glanced back down to the papers. "There are both humans _and_ monsters here..."

"Yes."

"Everyone... everyone needs to know-"

"No, Asriel. No. Listen to me. We can't give these people publicity! The more famous you make them, the more people will flock around them, for both species. It will fan the flames."

"And just letting _the flames_ spread and grow is okay?!"

"If news of the human threats get out, monsters as a whole will feel less safe on the surface, Asriel. There aren't a lot of these people out there. There's actually very few of them. And yet you're going to give them all this power. For sending a few letters. And if any monster tries to arrest or apprehend them, they'll... Look, it's probably a really, really good thing that I'm the one getting these letters, and not you."

Asriel's head was spinning. He sat on the bed. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind. Come on. Give another logical argument. Don't cry here.

"It's treason..." he said.

"Huh?"

"...Threatening a member of the royal family is treason."

"I'm not a member if the royal family, though."

Right. Yeah. But only because you resisted all of Toriel's attempts to officially, legally adopt you. Goddamnit. Were you _counting_ on this dumb loophole? Was _this_ the reason?

 

* * *

* * *

 

At that point, Undyne noticed a bitter tinge to the way Asriel told his story.

He approved their non-adoption because he was hoping they were doing this for a different reason, wasn't he? If Toriel formally adopted Frisk, the two of them would have been siblings, which would have meant Frisk would never be able to return his crush. Well Asriel, it turns out that not everything is about you, or about your relationship with Frisk.

She held her tongue and listened on.

 

* * *

* * *

 

"...it _should_ be treason," said Asriel.

"Look, Asriel, punishing any of the monster ones wouldn't do any good either. It would actually make things even worse. Not only will it give more exposure to these few individuals, but it would also give anti-monster sentiments among humans more credence. Not to mention, for the monsters that hate me, seeing one of their own arrested for _my_ sake will prove all their fears true. If it gets too far, there might be-" Frisk's voice dropped a few octaves. "-this might even lead to civil war."

Yes, but if Frisk died, there _will_ be a war. He'll wage it himself, if he had to.

"So you're saying we shouldn't do anything?" asked Asriel.

"No. It's just- it's fine. _I'm_ taking care of it, okay? None of you guys need to worry."

What was Frisk doing?

"Why-why did you break away from us during that trip to the beach?! And at the restaurant? And at the- the visit at amusement park? And why do you keep refusing getting a bodyguard?!"

"I, uh..." Frisk tugged at the hems of their sleeves. "...My thinking is, if any one of these people confronts me, I think it would be better if, uh, none of the others are there."

"You... you-" No, don't call them an idiot. "What are you thinking?!"

"I think that-" their voice became more even, "-I think that if the, uh, the others are involved, then the situation will escalate very quickly. Our friends could get really hurt, and these people- these people who's been sending me these letters, they're just ignorant. They have reasons to be angry. Good, reasons, bad reasons, it doesn't really matter. And if- if we attack them, they'll respond the same way. But if we don't. If I could just hear them out... well... maybe I can change their mind."

"Frisk..." his eyes dropped to his lap, and he stared, helpless. He wished he could cry. "...you're going to die..."

"Please don't be afraid." The mattress beside him shifted, and then Frisk's warm hands held his. "I'm not going to die. Okay? I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to- you don't have to worry about me. I survived in the Underground, hadn't I?"

"Yes! But back at the Underground, you-"

 

* * *

* * *

 

Asriel fell silent. He pulled his knees even tighter to his chest and pressed his mouth to his arm.

"Yeah, I think I get what you meant..." said Undyne. "Back in the Underground, Frisk wasn't going up against any humans, or any monsters who would wilfully attack their own saviour."

"Yeah..." said Asriel. "That's what I meant."

Undyne opened another bottle and set it beside him.

"I just... I don't want them to be hurt, Undyne... I don't want them to be killed."

Undyne could understand that. For years, she used Asriel's story not only as a motive, but also a cautionary tale. A warning of the dangers pacifism could bring. The Underground deified Asriel. They saw him as an example and a martyr, while at the same time, vowing to do the opposite of what he did. Speaking badly of Asriel was sacrilege, but at the same time, Undyne couldn't help but wonder if he could have prevented all this suffering if he just fought. Wonder if he was selfish, for taking this risk, and then refusing to defend himself.

And now both sides of the issue presented themselves in regards to protecting a human, of all things. Undyne couldn't deny that Frisk gave her an appreciation for pacifists. In hindsight, a person like her would never have been able to free the Underground or usher peace between the two races. But at the same time, hearing that they'd risk their life for their principles was just...

Maybe she doesn't have a right to get all worked up about this. This is the exact same Frisk she met in the Underground. She should have known that's how they'll be. But still, she couldn't help it.

Now she understood what Asriel must have felt.

"I really wish I knew this earlier," said Undyne. "To be honest, I'm kinda mad at Frisk now."

"What?!" Asriel's eyes were wide. "No. Please don't! It's not their fault!"

"Hey, chill out. It's not hateful-angry; it's worried-angry. Same as you."

"...I'm not angry at them."

Time to be the wise, understanding adult here. "Yes, you are. I've been there. I was an angry kid, too. You're angry at them. You're angry at a whole lot of things right now. You can't even trust your own people anymore. You feel angry and helpless. And the only way you know to deal with it is through what we've been doing, right?"

"Hm..."

"You want to protect them, right?" asked Undyne.

"Yeah," said Asriel.

"I want the same thing."

"Hm."

"You shouldn't have kept this from me. I could have helped you."

"I already told you, Frisk didn't want me to."

"Psh. Loyal, huh? Still, they wouldn't want you to push yourself or risk your life, either." She put a hand on his shoulder, but he didn't respond.

"I know," he said. "They've been... uh, they've been trying to dissuade me. They tried to convince me it stopped on its own. But I know they lied. I know they lied because I found another letter that morning."

"You were bringing these letters to the lessons to motivate yourself, right?"

"Yeah... it's what, uh, all these animes showed would work, actually." With one hand, he made a fist, with the other, he held his wrist. "...That if you have determination, and talent, and something to fight for, you will always prevail."

"So you're an anime fan after all!" Undyne smacked on his back, knocking the air out of his lungs. "You have a good taste, prince Asriel!"

"Thanks." He picked up the bottle and took a long swig. And on his face, there lied the hint of a smile, a slight curve of his mouth, a contentment in his eyes.

And from then on, Undyne knew exactly what to make of Asriel Dreemurr, and what she can make him _into_ , as his mentor, teacher, and friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asriel would make a good shonen protagonist. A somewhat unusual shonen protagonist, but a good one nonetheless.
> 
> On another note, I would like to say that fight scenes are hard, even if you're just summarising them. I wish I could stop thinking up scenarios that rely on them :p

**Author's Note:**

> I feel that Friskriel is sort of dying in the fandom, which makes me sad. So this is my attempt to rectify that. Updates for this will probably be VERY sporadic, but there's no ongoing plot so it should be fine.
> 
> I think I might also post Flowisk oneshots here (It's the same ship, after all). Or I might start another oneshot collection to store them. We'll see.


End file.
